It's hard enough balancing two jobs with raising my son solo. Forget dating. I barely have time for laundry. But when my son’s scouting troop The Falcons needed a co-scout leader, I couldn’t say no. There’s just one ginormous problem: the other scout leader Russ. To all other parents, he’s #DadGoals, Mr. Sexy Widower who lords over the drop off line. To me? He’s the bane of my picket-fenced existence - stuck up, anal (not in the fun way), and definitely the person who got me booted from the Parent Teacher Association.

This week hasn’t gone the best for me unless you count Casimir, the sexy ancient vampire, bringing me back from the brink of death (and tying my fate to his in the process). Not that it matters if the werewolves and vampires don’t stop their ridiculous feud, because someone is targeting them and widening the divide between our communities with each body they leave in their wake. But as the alpha’s son, I have a plan to fix everything. I’m going to convince Casimir to fake date me to show the others that we can work together. I mean… what could go wrong?

Like all Necromancers, Cassius Corbin grew up knowing one irrevocable truth: death comes for us all. It was a lesson he learned well when his mother was murdered by fellow witches. Six years later, he is back in the town of Winslow, Massachusetts, to attend Tennebrose University. But that's not the only reason. While he's home, he intends to track down a magical folio stolen from his family centuries ago. Once he finds it, he'll finally be everything the witches in Winslow fear and the Corbin name will be respected once again—as long as Graeme Hewitt stays out of his way.

Moms are good at one thing: the guilt trip. It’s the only reason I’m at the funeral of a man I’ve never had anything to do with. I’ll show up, make her happy, and get out. At least that’s what I think until I learn daddy dearest has left me a crap load of money and the obligation to learn about the family business. All from his eldest son who looks nothing like the rest of us.

Miles Castillo has spent his entire life running from the crime his parents committed. He’s an alpha without a pack, and a son whose very name is poisoned. When two werewolf hunters catch him, he has to choose between a man who wants his head mounted on a wall and Cade Bartlett, the mage prince who doesn’t realize who Miles is.

I was intrigued by Crow at first glance. Who wouldn't be? He's a mountain of a man, who was raised in a cult, and now lives secluded in the wilderness. But the draw I feel to him goes beyond mild interest. When his intense gaze falls my way it feels like he can see into my soul, to my deepest yearnings and desires. I took a bold chance venturing to his mountain uninvited. But I can't help myself. Despite Crow’s dangerous facade, I feel at home when I’m near him. I've never felt wanted or needed… until the mountain man took me in his arms.

I’m never one to turn down a bet. Especially not when it comes to retaliating against the dean for pulling a dick move before summer break. So when the dean’s golden child arrives at Astor for his freshman year, my fellow troublemakers throw down a wager I can’t resist. The target: the dean’s son, John Thomas Hawthorne, or “JT”. The bet: corruption in any way I choose. It should’ve been easy. With his mess of brown curls, pouty lips, and good-boy reputation, JT is the perfect revenge. And even better? He’s straight.

Sometimes I want to punch that smirk off Atlas McCallister's pretty face. He's cocky. A troublemaker. A pain. And, unfortunately, my stepbrother. We've been fire and kerosene since our parents got together, and to keep from exploding into fistfights, we've used challenges, dares, and bets to battle out our differences. Our past bets have been a little inappropriate—scandalous, even—but Atlas's latest bet has gone too far. Do I really believe if he loses, my straight stepbrother is gonna mess around with a guy? And not just any guy: me, his rival and nemesis?

Angelus Salvatore is the only necromancer in all of Boston, and his name is whispered warily by the undead and fellow sorcerers alike. He and his brother Isaac are the lone survivors of an attack by an army of the undead, in which Angel used a spell so powerful it forever marked his place in history. Now, years later, Angel struggles to balance his career as a teacher of the higher magical arts, his role as big brother, and a tenuous relationship with an Elder vampire from the local clan.

I just told off my billionaire CEO in front of the entire company, and it was totally worth it. Do I care that a viral video of our exchange sent his stocks into freefall? Nope. Am I going to help Rand Wolfe rehab his company’s reputation? Not a chance in hell. There’s just one problem: I’m the bastard son of a mafia don, a fact Wolfe finds out the hard way when he tracks me down at the docks. Saving his life puts a mafia-style extradition order on my head, and the only place to hide is his high-rise penthouse.

A thousand years ago, my great-something uncle founded the Collective, a secret organization dedicated to protecting humanity from demons. The hunter tradition has been passed down over the generations, from parent to child, secure in the knowledge that the Collective is a community of safety and knowledge. But betrayal sucks, and six years ago, it turned my world—and the Collective—upside down. After generations of deception, the hunters left behind are picking up the pieces and trying something we’ve never done before—working side by side with our enemy.

Hating Justin Jennings should be a lot easier than this. He nearly ruined my life, and I swore when I left town that I’d become the opposite of him in every possible way. I’ve kept that promise, traveling the world to save the people who cannot save themselves. The lost, the trafficked, the stolen. This work is my life’s mission, and now my father has given me the land to expand my operations.

There wasn’t a time when I didn't know Flynn “Firecracker” Honeycutt. He’s been my childhood friend. My high school rival. The guy I couldn’t stop dreaming about, long after I thought I’d left him and Honeybridge in my rear-view mirror.

It's official: my step bro is the biggest himbo ever to himbo. He's a massive blond beefcake with a soft heart and an over-eager smile. The mere sight of him incites a shaking hot rage in me. He's everywhere. He's around me all the time. So sweet and gentle that it makes me feel wild. I see him and smell him everywhere. When I can't see him or smell him, I hear him. The wall between our bedrooms is paper thin. I can't help it—I hear what he does in his room when he thinks he's alone. I hear everything.

What's the first rule of running a gym by and for combat vets? Enjoy the scorching hot scenery, but get your kicks somewhere else. Never mind that my cousin-slash-business partner ignores that rule every chance he gets. I don't ignore it. Ever. And frankly, between Grindr, and living in one of the gayest cities in America, it's not exactly a hardship. That is, until a pair of blue eyes, swimming with vulnerability, shows up at my door, looking for a job. He's too skinny, too mouthy, and way too young for the likes of me, but he pings that protector instinct in me - hard.